Doubt
by Bramblefox
Summary: This is one of my first attempt at writing Javert in-character. Very sad, I know...it takes place during/right after Valjean lets Javert go at the barricade. Rather pointless in retrospect, but meh.


**Doubt**

**by Bramblefox**

_Takes place immediately during/after Valjean lets Javert go at the barricade. This is mostly an attempt to write Javert successfully. Features a guest appearance by Instinct. This is dedicated to Sythar for writing amazing fan fiction about Javert and Jean Valjean._

--

Javert glowered at Valjean with all the acidic disbelief he could muster. As Valjean recited his address Javert's razor-sharp mind automatically grabbed hold of the words and filed them away. If Valjean wanted to be bull-headed and so damned saintly as to request his own arrest, fine. Javert would be happy to oblige. But as the 'oblige' thought crossed his mind a little cautious voice screamed '_Trap! Trap!_' Javert muttered between his teeth, "Take care."

"Go on," Valjean said.

Javert very nearly bristled up in irritation; that tone was very like someone speaking to a naughty stray dog. But he managed to swallow the snide 'I wasn't talking to you' and instead restated, "You said Fauchelevent, Rue de l'Homme-Armé?" As the words left his mouth his instinct to be sarcastically suspicious slapped him upside the head--figuratively, of course. _Nice going, genius,_ it harped. _You could have told him 'I wasn't talking to you' or been all cold and aloof, but no, you had to take the bait and play along with whatever game he's calling the shots for. Brilliant move._

Javert ground his teeth. Valjean, oblivious to this little mental exchange, filled in, "Number 7."

Javert repeated the number in a show to be putting it to memory as Instinct screamed, _What are you doing, you fool?!_

Shut up, Javert snapped at Instinct, which, to his mild surprise, withdrew muttering. With that out of the way Javert nonchalantly fixed his civilian clothing to look neat and inspector-worthy, abandoned the relaxed pedestrian stance for his familiar military bearing, and walked with slow, measured steps away from Valjean.

Every moment he expected to hear the pistol report and be struck by a bullet in the back, but the silence reigned uncomfortably. The idiocy of his current actions came full-force into his mind, probably shoved there by Instinct. But he couldn't positively prove that. The fact that he was consciously agreeing to go along with Valjean's plans opened a sore filled with hatred. Why did Valjean have to be right? Why wasn't he, Javert, distinguished with his incredible mind, taking the initiative and following his own plans? He stopped, turned to see Valjean watching him, and called out, "I find this embarrassing. Kill me instead."

"Go away."

Javert ground his teeth for the second time and continued on his way. Instinct chose that moment to pounce and proceeded to berate him for everything he had done against his personal code such as Never Accept Help From Convicts and Choose Death Over Being Wrong. Javert tried to shut out Instinct's babblings, but it's always difficult to shut out something that is in your head. As he turned the corner to the Rue des Prêcheurs, a pistol shot rang out from behind him.

Javert nearly burst out laughing. He was right, then! The old man couldn't resist shooting his nemesis after all! After a few moments of exultation he realized that no bullet tore into his back.

Damn.

"You stupid old fool," Javert snarled. _That he is,_ Instinct agreed. Javert resisted the urge to go back and continued down the rue, scowling ferociously the whole way. By the time he reached the end of the street he stopped; a faint trembling had seized his limbs at the same moment that the realization 'Oh my God, I almost died back there' struck him full-force. For once Instinct remained quiet, much to Javert's relief. He knew what was happening--appropriately called 'the shakes' the involuntary trembling usually happened when one was kept in a continual stage of suspense, fright, etc. It was years since Javert had been struck with them.

Once the trembling stopped Javert took the shortest route possible to the prefecture of police and gave his oral report to the prefect before continuing his duty. As he exited the prefecture he tried yet again to dash the recurring thought from his mind: perhaps Valjean's selflessness was right and he, Javert, was wrong. The encounter with Valjean had planted the seeds of self-doubt--who knew if they would ever be eradicated?

FIN

I figured it's high time I started attempting to write about Javert. It's going to be a nice challenge--he's one of the most complicated characters I've come across, despite the narrow constraints that people usually write him in. The poor guy just isn't justified by most fan fiction.


End file.
